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Full text of "The Letters Of Horace Walpole Vol I"

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Fermor; all the world is or should be. But I had cried her up so much before she appeared that she does not answer everybody's expectation. No more will the Opera to-night, for Amorevoli is ill and does not sing; his part is to be read. They had certainly much better have staid till Tuesday; but for fear of disappointing people, I fear they will disappoint them. I am not to be there, for Dodd has got a fever with the heat of the ball last night, so I shall not leave him. Indeed, my dear Harry, I will not scold you about the Opera, but I should have been glad, I own, that you were not in the direction. I doubt much of the success; and even should it succeed, gentlemen—and they very young gentlemen—are mighty apt not to understand economy and management. Do get out of it, if possible.
Good night!   I have nothing more to tell you now, but I shall have a quantity to say to you.   My loves to
all your family.
Yours ever,
London, Nov. 2,174=1.
You shall not hear a word but of balls and public places: this one week has seen Sir T. Kobinson's ball, my Lord Mayor's, the birthday, and the Opera. There were an hundred and ninety-seven persons at Sir Thomas's, and yet was it so well conducted that nobody felt a crowd. He had taken off all his doors, and so separated the old and the young, that • neither were inconvenienced with the other. The ball began at eight; each man danced one minuet with his partner, and then began country dances. There were four-and-twenty couple, divided into twelve and twelve: each set danced two dances, and then retired into another room,